Call me by your name

"So... nonchalant" one character observes in this film, and such a simple description (accompanied by a longer discussion about artistic representations of bodies) proves a perfect encapsulation of a film whose beauty is ravishingly casual.

Intoxicating stuff overall. It's an earnest film, but it's rare to see a film so utterly committed to doing its own thing, so confident in its own skin (and, of course, focusing on its actors' skin). As a romance story, it's sensual and summery and intense in the way many great cinematic love stories are. But it's uniquely articulate too. Many scenes are perfectly shaped: one mid-film sequence - where simmering tensions finally come to the fore - takes place by a war memorial, and the graceful way the characters & camera move, amplifying the emotion to unexpected heights, makes it one of the best single scene in recent memory. But there's others too, and Guadagnino & editor Walter Fasano always know when a scene has to move on - some of the most powerful moments are mere seconds long, others continue for five minutes plus. For a film where 'not much happens', it gallops along at a hypnotic pace.

It's a classical film, and yet one that also feels like it couldn't have been made in quite this shape until now (or very recently). European summer romances, from Bergman to Rohmer, have long delivered some of cinema's most irresistible pleasures - and this exquisite piece of unapologetic romantic melodrama can stand proudly alongside them